


Watch_Dogs Related Short Stories.

by MonroseMeadows



Series: Watch_Dogs Related Short Stories. [1]
Category: Watch_Dogs, Wrencus - Fandom
Genre: Gen, M/M, Short Stories, one shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 14:38:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15439248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonroseMeadows/pseuds/MonroseMeadows
Summary: This is a collection of short stories related to the Watch_Dogs fandom.





	Watch_Dogs Related Short Stories.

He had often stayed home alone. His father was the type of man that had a hard time telling someone 'no' was the answer to their plea. And generally this led to the acceptance of many a more hours of overtime. Sure, the extra time spent at the office would be paid out, but the aftermath meant that as soon as he had passed the threshhold connecting the kitchen and the garage, exhaustion and the tickling fingers of sleep would expose themselves. And even before he had opened his eyes in the morning, he knew his father had, yet again, already left for work. When he was still a small child, his father would ask the neighbor, mrs. Stark, to keep an eye on the house and to drop by every so often to make sure he was still safe and soundly playing with his toys - or watching the television. Mrs. Stark was an older lady, estimated to be somewhere in her 50's, with a passion for flower-patterened dresses. A nice woman, with an extraordinary helpful nature-- which more than once meant the burden of having to prepare dinner, fell in to her hands. He never seemed to mind, he loved her cooking -- then again, it didn't take much skill or talent to outdo his father when it came to the act of preparing food. The man simply was not meant to spend his time near a stove, and it shone through with the easy meals he fed him, time after time again. And he wasn't even that fond of eggs with bacon, or spaghetti. Yes, he would eat it, but that had more to do with him wanting to spare his father's feelings, rather than to give the man the idea he actually enjoyed the meals he was presented with.  
So, as a result, the man simply gave up on pretending he belonged in the kitchen, and turned to TV-dinners and kind neighbors and acquaintances to help him out every now and then.

"Reggie?"

A plate that held mashed sweet potatoes, a piece of beef cooked to perfection, and decorated with many colorfol pieces of vegetables, now rested on the table they were both seated at. Mrs. Stark sat across from him, working her way through the meal with intense joy -- she enjoyed her own meals that much, but he couldn't really blame her. The food was always damn delicious, so .. it was justified to some extent.

"Earth to Reginald, someone in there?"

The fork that he had held in his hand, tumbled down on to the plate, nestling itself between the warm bed of beef and the cold blanket of freshly, yet mildly stir fried vegetables. The sudden loss of grip on the silverware, awoke a survival mechanic inside the body. His head snapped in a jerky upward fasion, and intense ash-blue eyes darted around the room, only to land on the sweet face of Mrs. Stark, the usual sweetness, however, replaced by an expression of confusion, perhaps there was even a hint of concern present in that wrinkles-ridden face of hers. He quickly picked up the fork, cleaning its edges with the small strip of paper towel that Mrs. Stark always set the table with. Reggie wasn't too sure whether the woman had children of her own, but by the way she set the table and how she moved around in the kitchen as if it were where she belonged - he had to at least consider the fact that she might have. He tossed the crumpled paper towel on the table, and returned to mindlessly stabbing and jabbing his food.

"I know it isn't easy, son." Mrs. Stark spoke after she took a sip of water. "But know that he works this much so he can give you all your heart desires." The glass found its way back on to the table, and as he looked up to meet her gaze, he saw her lick her lips in a certain way - you know the one - the way women licked their lips when wearing lipstick, and trying to avoid smearing any of it.

"If that's the case, then that's a contradiction of the greatest kind."

A pair of hazel met and connected with a pair of ice.

"If only once a week, I'd like to sit down and have a conversation with my father."

Mrs. Stark nodded in understanding. "I get where you are coming from, Reggie."

"Do you really? Because right now it feels like he's nothing more than a ghost."

"My husband, God have his soul, used to be enlisted in the navy. We got maried when we were both still very young - as you did back then. The first couple of years he was around, and helped me raise our son, August. But soon after that, once he got accepted into the US navy, it all came down to me. And let me tell you, raising a child as a lone woman is never an easy task - but I managed. And I raised a beautiful son."

Reginald let out a quiet sigh. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be, Reggie. It's perfectly reasonable for you to miss your father. He is your rock after all. But he does all of this for you and not in spite of you."

"Did he .. you know?"

"Oh, I'm afraid so. But he served his country, it's a redeemable fact. I still miss him dearly, but sometimes the path that is laid out for us isn't for us to define. But it all serves a purpose. And I never held it against him for spending very little time at home."


End file.
